“I’m not sure if this was the right thing to do. I don’t really know how to do the whole friend thing, but I wanted to see you. Even if it was for something stupid like coffee,” I say. Hiding behind my coffee won’t really move us forward, so being honest feels like the right move.
“Coffee is never stupid, especially from Grind Time.”
I shoot her a look that says ‘you know what I mean’.
She sighs. “I don’t exactly know how to do this either, but I like this. It was a nice surprise.”
We sit quietly, drinking our coffee and looking out at the creek. I’ve been everywhere in this town, and yet somehow, this little piece of Bluebell Falls Rina has claimed is almost as soothing as our spot at the falls. I wouldn’t ever leave if this was my house.
“It’s gorgeous out here,” I murmur.
“It is. Ever since Willow and Lennox graduated high school, I had my eye on this plot of land. It’s the perfect mix of ‘close enough to town‘ and ‘has enough space to build my shop on’. And then the creek, being close to the water, it’s what sold me.”
“You’ve done amazing things, Rina,” I tell her earnestly.
“Why, thank you. I think so too. Although, lately, I’ve been taking on too many jobs. I never really thought about what would happen if I started getting more than steady jobs. I mean, I’m only one person, and I think I forget that sometimes when I take on commissions,” she muses.
I make a mental note to figure out how to help her with that if I can.
“What about you?” she asks. “What made you come back here and take over the job of sheriff?”
“Felt like the right thing to do. After Uncle Charlie died, I had no plans to come back, but Old Man Walters heard through some obscuregrapevine that I was out and offered me the job since he was long past wanting to retire. It all just naturally fell into place.”
“And do you like it?” A simple question, but one I’ve never actually asked myself.
“I do,” I say after I mull it over. “I didn’t think I would, mainly because I always expected to retire an officer, but there’s never a dull day here.” She laughs in agreement. “I honestly didn’t expect to be so busy all the time.” It’s true. I expected small town problems, not a town full of talkers who make up problems every single day.
“I don’t think I ever thanked you for getting Lennox out of that cabin.” Her voice softens as my spine stiffens.
“No thanks needed.” I can hear the shift in my tone, but this isn’t something I want or expected to talk about.
“I think it’s needed. It rocked our world and continues to do so, but you got him out when things could have gone downhill fast. And now, knowing about your back, I just … need you to know how much I see what you did.”
“What brought this on?” I deflect.
“Self-examination?” she asks like she’s unsure if it’s the right answer. “I realized I have a tendency to shove all of my emotions down, so I’ve been working on that. It also made me realize that we’ve talked to Oakley and Lennox about all things Tennison, but I don’t think anyone has told you how thankful we are that you were there. I wanted to change that.”
Stunned. I feel stunned, and I’m having trouble accepting her thanks. I didn’t do enough so her thanks feels … misplaced.
Another thing to work on in therapy, I suppose.
“Thank you,” I whisper. It’s a positive step for me, although I still am uncomfortable with any praise relating to what went down in that cabin.
“What are you working on right now?” Moving on to a less serious topic helps me save face. If we continue talking about Lennox and Tennison, I know I’ll break, or worse, take my insecurities out on her and I refuse to do that.
Her audible sigh sounds tired. “Let’s see… This week, I’m finishing up a dining room set for a sweet couple in Rosedale. I also started this super adorable picnic table with a matching kid-sized one for a family all the way in Austin. They’re coming to pick that up, though, so at least I don’t have to stress about delivery.”
“If you ever need help on deliveries, let me know, or if you don’t want to be alone doing it for whatever reason." I offer more for myself because I hate not knowing who she’s delivering to. It could be anyone, and anything could happen to her.
“Gee, thanks,Sheriff.” She smirks.
“I’m serious, Rina. If you ever feel the slightest bit unsafe or unsure, just call me.”
“I will,” she concedes. “Are you this over-protective with all of your friends?”
I shoot her an annoyed look. “What friends?” I joke, but the truth of the statement hits me hard.
We stare at each other. The sadness in her eyes makes me wish I didn’t say that. My hand slides over to hers, and I hold it in a firm grip. Her eyes dart to our hands, and when they look back up at me, the heat I see throws me, but I can’t say I’m upset about it.
